


all your unfinished selves

by spacebubble



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, Established Relationship, Fix-It, M/M, Mirror Universe, Non-Linear Narrative, Old Quodo, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, one scene with Kira that isn't about Odo, plenty of allusions to mortality in multiple guises, quark's rampant and unchecked tears, sentimental old aliens, they are each other's constant in all the universes. all of them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 19:34:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9840848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacebubble/pseuds/spacebubble
Summary: Quark bites into the Orb of Possibility and establishes his relationship with Odo over and over again.





	

**Author's Note:**

> mood music: [fellow traveller](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JMWQo7_ROYg)

Quark examines the fragment in front of him, gleaming and crystalline.

It might be an orb fragment.

It might also be worthless.

He turns the fragment over and over in his hands, watching it sparkle, mesmerized by the facets.

Curious, he brings it up to his mouth and takes a tentative bite -

 

*

 

The doughnut is fresh and sweet as Herb bites into it, square teeth cleanly chewing through the softness.

He’s got a mouth full of sugar. It keeps his sharp tongue busy, for now.

Not a bad start for his first day at the new magazine, though he probably shouldn’t have so much sugar on the outside of his mouth as well.

Herb carefully dusts off his face as he glances back up at his new editor, a melancholy-looking man named Douglas Pabst.

The melancholy man gives him a slight smile, so Herb smiles back.

His mouth is still full, but he can tell Douglas is watching for his reaction. He nods and raises his eyebrows to indicate the doughnut is good.

His editor’s smile grows.

He thinks Douglas should smile more often. It makes the taller man’s hangdog features look almost handsome.

He wonders if the rest of his days at Incredible Tales will live up to this one -

*

He is walking with Gul Dukat through the ruins of a ransacked bar, and the Gul tells him not to worry about the mess - the Bajorans can clean it up later.

Quark hopes the rest of his days at Terok Nor won’t be quite like this one.

Lights flicker from panel to panel, casting strange shadows along the floor as they pick their way through the aftermath of yet another attempt on Gul Dukat’s life.

The Gul seems unfazed. Quark supposes he’s gotten used to it.

He listens intently to the Cardassian as he steps over the fallen pieces of furniture. He tries not to think too much about the previous proprietor, who had died in the explosion.

No wonder it was so easy to acquire the bar. But an opportunity was an opportunity, after all.

As they sidestep a heavy burn mark on the ground, Quark looks up at Gul Dukat and asks, “May I make a suggestion?”

“You may,” says the Gul, sounding entertained by Quark’s daring.

“You could really use a new chief of security.”

An amused laugh greets him in reply, resounding in his ears, and -

*

Dukat keeps laughing as Quark’s own laughter fades under Odo’s unblinking stare.

The Changeling looks blue under the bar’s dim lights. His face is a blank canvas reflecting the station's lighting and the station's lighting is so monotonously cool. Quark keeps requesting something a little warmer, and the Gul keeps telling him he’ll get around to it when they can spare the resources.

Maybe this newcomer could bring a little order to the station. Free up some resources.

He’s unnerved by how Odo keeps staring at him with that smooth, unfinished face.

He hopes Odo won’t make a habit of it in the days to come.

It’s only Odo’s first day on the job, though. A homicide investigation, no less.

He wishes he could buy the poor Changeling a drink, if only to see what lay underneath that impassive mask. Bring a hint of color to the surface.

There must be another way to get Odo to loosen up. No one could remain that uptight without relieving the pressure somehow.

There’s no lock that can’t be picked, and Quark loves picking locks.

He wonders if Changelings have a sense of humor, or if it's just this one in particular who seems so humorless.

He figures he’ll get Odo to crack a smile yet -

*

He is facing the Prophets in disguise and only _just_ realizing the impossibility of cracking a joke with beings who don’t quite comprehend the concept of a linear existence, never mind a punchline -

*

The Terran’s punch knocks him to the floor of the bar and Quark tries not to think about how many feet have stepped on the floor underneath his hands.

His nose is bleeding. Blood drips onto his hands as he begins to push himself back up off the ground.

Then he notices a new pair of feet, stepping between him and the Terran.

Quark glances up.

It’s the shapeshifter - Odo - looking eerily out of place outside of the ore processing unit.

He stares at the shapeshifter in black as the shapeshifter stares at the drunken patron.

“But Supervisor Odo,” the Terran protests, “the bartender _deserved_ that punch -”

Odo’s voice drips with disdain. “Deserved or not, I _highly_ doubt the accuracy of your inferior Terran judgment. The Intendant has left me in charge of discipline in her absence, so for the time being, _I’m_ the one who decides who merits punishment around here.”

The Terran cowers and says, "Understood, Supervisor Odo.” And he barely waits for the shapeshifter’s nod of dismissal before he hastily departs.

Quark watches the Terran stumble and sway out of the bar.

“Now, then.” Odo glances back down at him. “The Intendant told me to keep an eye on you. Quark, is it?”

“Yes,” says Quark, blinking in surprise. “Um. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” Odo says graciously. “The Terran was being impudent.”

Quark nods, unsure what to say next.

A trickle of blood runs down his mouth. He licks his lips instinctively, then blushes as he realizes Odo is still looking at him.

The shapeshifter’s face seems to soften.

“You’re bleeding,” Odo says. “I’ll walk you to the Infirmary.”

Quark’s eyes widen as Odo extends a hand to him. He tentatively takes it, and Odo pulls him back onto his feet -

*

He is lying on the floor of the bar, bleeding through his clothes.

Quark does _not_ want to think about the inevitable bill Garak will give him for repairing his outfit, but it’s better than thinking about dying.

Besides, Garak’s probably an expert at handling bloodstains.

He can dimly hear Odo yell for medical assistance, yell at his officers to apprehend the Nausicaans, yell out his name.

A hand grips his own and Quark squeezes it back.

He always knew he’d get Odo to hold his hand someday.

Who knew it’d only take a little near-death experience to make it happen?

“Quark? Quark, stay with me, Quark!”

Brunt’s Nausicaans were too good at their jobs. Light and color blur together in front of Quark’s unpunched eye and he can’t focus on a damned thing.

It hurts too much to keep his eye open, so he closes it and smiles weakly in what he assumes is Odo’s general direction.

How he wishes he could see Odo’s face right now.

He squeezes Odo’s hand again and says with a pained smile, “I’ve always wanted to hear you say that, Odo, but you don’t have to bark in my ear -”

*

It’s bad enough that he’s flung 400 years into the past, but the four-legged creature with the pointy ears keeps barking at him, and Quark can’t understand why it focuses on him so intently -

*

Herb focuses intently on his shot glass, swirling the whiskey inside before he glances back at his editor.

“I don’t understand why you had to destroy Benny’s dreams like that,” he tells Douglas. “He just wanted to tell a story about the future.”

He tosses his shot of whiskey back.

Douglas sighs next to him, “We’re not living in the future, Herb.”

“Yeah, I know.” He nudges Douglas’s foot with his own. “You think I don’t know that?”

“I think you’re drunk,” Douglas says. “And so am I.”

Herb nods. They are.

He feels Douglas nudge his foot back, swiftly and discreetly, as they sit on their neighboring barstools.

He wishes he owned his own bar.

A bar in the future, where genders and races could intermingle however much they pleased -

*

Quark leans on the countertop, swirling the liquid in his glass suggestively, and he wishes Odo would turn around and face him.

Just so he can see the Changeling’s reaction, that’s all.

It’s so much more satisfying when he can actually _see_ Odo’s face contort, especially when Quark knows each crafted expression is deliberate. No accidental reflex to tug at the muscle, no biological instinct to signal through the nerve.

Sometimes he thinks too much about Odo’s face.

Quark wonders which side of Odo he sees more often as the Changeling gets up to leave the bar.

He raises the glass and gives it another suggestive swirl, just in case Odo decides to see out the back of his head with his strange goo powers. The Changeling tried that once before. Quark never rules out the possibility he might try it again.

He stares suspiciously at the back of Odo’s head as the Changeling walks away -

*

He is standing next to Kira, listening to Odo’s footsteps recede and fade as they watch the Changeling walk away.

It’s a rhythm he’s heard countless times before. He should’ve gotten used to it by now. He wonders if he’ll ever have another chance to get used to it.

Quark stares at the back of Odo’s head and he’s not sure if he wants Odo to turn around this time.

He reassures Kira as he thinks about the absence of words.

Not saying anything leaves things open. If Odo ever did say goodbye for real, Quark wouldn’t know what to say in return.

Maybe a goodbye kiss would be the best reply.

He licks the remnants of champagne from the roof of his mouth, and raises his glass in a toast to Odo’s retreating back.

Quark’s not drunk enough to try chasing after the Changeling, not with Kira there. Kira, who’s lost so much already, losing someone yet again.

Besides, Odo wouldn’t appreciate the champagne on his lips, anyway.

He smiles to himself at the thought of sending Odo off with a series of champagne kisses. A little something for the entire Great Link to mull over for years to come.

He wishes he were drunk enough to do _that_ -

*

He is looking up at Odo’s patient face, wondering how it could remain the same after so many years.

Quark’s forgotten how long he’s been an ambassador, but he always remembers to kiss Odo goodbye. Multiple times, whenever possible. They somehow always find a way to make it possible.

“Can we do that again?” Quark asks hopefully.

Odo sighs, barely bothering to hide his smile. “Quark, it doesn’t count as a goodbye kiss if we don’t _actually_ say goodbye.”

Quark shrugs. He clasps his hands behind Odo’s neck and cocks his head.

“Humor an old Ferengi, Odo. I can’t remember all that.”

“You’re not old,” Odo insists. He looks frightened for a moment as he caresses Quark’s wrinkled face. “You’ve still got another century left, maybe more -”

*

“Is Zek _still_ alive?” Odo asks him dryly. “Thought he’d be long gone by the time I returned to the station.”

“Still hanging in there,” Quark tells him, almost bouncing on the soles of his feet. He’s forgotten what it’s like to pretend not to care about Odo’s presence, and chalks it up to getting older. “Ferengi can live for several centuries, Odo.”

“Oh good,” Odo replies, unable to keep himself from smiling. “So that means I’ll have at least 200 more years of aggravation to look forward to.”

A slight waver in the Changeling’s voice makes Quark grin from ear to ear.

“You _missed_ me,” Quark says, taking a gamble.

He watches Odo step closer to him, still smiling, and his breath catches in his throat.

“I did,” Odo tells him.

The Changeling’s smile fades slightly as he runs a thumb along the new lines on Quark’s face.

“Sorry I kept you waiting,” Odo says softly, and that moment of contrition is more than enough.

“Don’t mention it,” Quark says.

He must be getting old if he couldn’t keep his sincerity in check anymore.

But no matter.

He eagerly closes his eyes as Odo closes the distance between them for a kiss -

*

He sits in the crate, surrounded by bricks of worthless gold, and briefly closes his eyes in despair.

Odo leans closer to the crate’s open panel, and watches as Quark crumbles the bricks into dust, one after another.

Some of the dust gets on Quark’s face. He splutters and wipes the crumbled gold off of his lips.

“Looks like you can kiss those profits good-bye, eh, Quark?”

Quark glares up at him. He barely manages to hide an unwilling snort of amusement.

Odo smiles back with an obnoxious degree of self-satisfaction, and Quark regrets ever wishing to see such a sight. The Changeling makes too many jokes at his expense, nowadays.

“That’s not very funny, Odo.”

The Changeling’s smile grows wider. “Couldn’t pass up the opportunity for a joke, Quark -”

*

“Jokes are inefficient,” says the shapeshifter in black, lying next to him in his narrow bed. “But I suppose I can tolerate them from you.”

“That’s a relief,” Quark says. “I heard you didn’t like jokes.”

“I don’t.” Odo eyes him meaningfully. “But I like you.”

“Oh.” Quark blushes and nestles deeper into his pillow.

He’s still not used to Odo’s sincerity. He wishes he could return it.

Odo smells like machinery and smoke and pulverized ore. It’s a strange cologne, but Quark’s getting used to how Odo’s borrowed scent remains in his bedclothes for days.

He wishes he could stop burying his face in his bedclothes after they sleep together.

He wishes he could simply walk away from the one being on Terok Nor who liked him back. Or melt down the guilt, forge it into something more useful.

For reasons he can’t explain, Quark is drawn to the shapeshifter and his strange face -

*

Strange, facing the Prophets again after so long.

Strange, how they don familiar faces to greet him.

Strange, how Quark can’t stop crying at the sight of Jadzia.

Strange, how he can’t stop crying, even as the Prophet wearing Jadzia’s face seems to falter at the sight of his tears -

*

He is resting his eyes, face buried in his folded arms on the bar, and someone is shaking his shoulder.

“Quark,” Kira tells him, “it’s late. You should be back in your quarters now. You can’t sleep here.”

“Bet I can,” Quark grumbles, his voice muffled in his sleeve, and Kira chuckles. “Don’t mock me, Colonel.”

“I’m not mocking you,” Kira says.

She sits next to him at the bar.

“I know what day it is, Quark.”

“Do you?”

“And I miss her too, Quark.”

“You do,” he says.

He sits up and pours out another glass for her.

It’s the first anniversary of Jadzia’s death since Odo’s departure, and he knows Kira knows the date as well as he does.

Kira takes the glass. She looks worried as she looks into his tired eyes. “How long have you been drinking today?”

“All day,” he says.

Kira clinks her glass against his before taking a sip, then makes a face. “Wow.”

“Yeah.”

They sit in silence together. He doesn’t know what to say. Kira’s understanding of their shared loss goes beyond words.

They continue sitting in silence until Kira finishes her glass and helps him close up the bar.

He lets Kira help him out of the bar, an arm around his shoulder as they walk down the corridor -

*

 

_We are learning much about the nature of loss from an entity so obsessed with gain._

“Great,” Quark says, but the Prophets aren’t finished speaking.

_The Zek taught us that more is preferable to less. Yet you tolerate the less, far more than any other corporeal lifeform we meet._

“Thanks,” Quark says, more out of habit than anything.

He's starting to feel dizzy. 

He’s about to speak further when the Prophet wearing Jadzia’s face walks up to him and places a hand on his shoulder.

_Your love is non-linear, little bartender._

He blinks at the Prophet’s words -

 

*

He is blinking back tears after Natima’s departure, and Garak says nothing about it as they walk down the corridor.

*

He is blinking back tears after Pel’s departure, and Jadzia says nothing about it as they walk down the corridor.

*

He is blinking back tears after Grilka’s departure, and Worf refuses to say anything about it as they walk down the corridor.

*

His eyes are dry after Odo’s departure, and he walks alone down the corridor, refusing to say anything to anyone.

He returns to the bar and pours himself another tall glass of champagne.

He would drink another toast to Odo, savior of the Changelings.

The Link didn’t deserve Odo’s heroics.

It’s not a fair thought, but he doesn’t care.

_What a hero._

He mulls it over as he slowly swirls the champagne in his glass. He watches the bubbles rise to the top and burst.

_What a beautiful dumb hero -_

*

“My hero,” Quark says aloud, completely free of embarrassment as he gazes at the irritated Changeling glowering back at him.

He doesn’t have to look behind him to know the primitive humans echo his gaze, though perhaps with less of a besotted grin.

His hero, putting a grin on his face yet again.

He’s still grinning as Odo drags him along to the primitive military vehicle, grumbling away -

*

The low rumble of Odo’s voice is all he can pay attention to as he drifts in and out of consciousness.

Something about putting Brunt and the Nausicaans in a holding cell, where they can’t hurt Quark again. Not on the station, not on his watch.

There’s a wavering quality to Odo’s voice that would have pleased Quark, if he weren’t so distracted by how ferociously Odo grips his hand.

It hurts, but it hurts in a good way.

He continues holding onto Odo’s hand as he’s lifted into the bio-bed. He gives it a squeeze.

“My hero,” Quark mumbles softly, and he feels Odo squeeze his hand back.

“You have to be more careful in the future,” Odo tells him gruffly. “I can’t always save you.”

He wishes he could tell Odo that he doesn’t expect Odo to save him every time, that what they have is enough -

*

He is blinking back tears as he walks next to the shapeshifter in black, and Quark doesn’t understand why he can’t stop crying when he’s the one who ended the relationship in the first place.

He wishes he could tell Odo it was all some hideous joke.

He wishes he could love the one person on Terok Nor who loves him more than his brother does.

“You’ll have to be more careful in the future,” Odo says gruffly. “I can’t always save you if we aren’t... together anymore.”

Quark nods. He tries to smile. “My brother can get me a disruptor rifle. I’ll be fine.”

Odo grunts in disbelief.

“I’ll be fine,” Quark insists. He turns away so he doesn’t have to see Odo’s face. “I’ll survive without you.”

He wishes he believed himself.

It’d be easier to believe himself if he could just stop crying.

Odo reaches for his hand and grasps it.

He squeezes Odo’s hand back and he knows it’s not enough -

*

Herb’s had enough, and so has Douglas.

They take their leave of the bar and walk down the darkened city streets back to Douglas’s apartment.

Their arms press against each other for support. Herb wants to say so much about it. Words bubble up within him, desperate for a release he can’t give. Not in these streets, not under these lights.

Maybe in the future, they can afford to be less careful about being together.

If not them, then another them in another time.

Herb looks up at Douglas’s hangdog face in the moonlight.

Douglas is smiling and the smile transforms his entire face -

*

He is lying next to Odo in bed, and he runs a fingertip along the new creases in Odo’s skin, tracing the thin smile lines that transform the Changeling’s entire face.

“Took you long enough to notice,” Odo teases. “It’s been decades, Quark. You’re slipping.”

“Decades?” Quark continues stroking the lines thoughtfully. “Why’d you start?”

“Didn’t want you to age alone.”

“But I haven’t been alone.” He nuzzles Odo’s nose and realizes that’s changed, too. Less sharp, more defined. “You haven’t left me alone since you came back to the station. Thankfully."

Odo nuzzles him back. “Even so. I wanted to change with you.”

“You’re a sentimental old Changeling.”

“And you’re sentimental young Ferengi,” Odo tells him, voice still teasing and warm. “Besides, I enjoy improving my shapeshifting. Who knows what I’ll be able to do with my face in the next century?”

Quark chuckles. “Don’t change your face entirely, though. I’ve gotten used to it.”

Odo runs his knuckles along Quark’s cheek. “I’ve gotten used to yours, as well.”

Another thought occurs to him. Quark smiles wryly. “Hey, Odo?”

“Yes, Quark?”

“Don’t clone me after I’m dead.”

Odo coughs and it sounds like a cross between a choke and a laugh. “I don’t think any universe is ready for more than one Quark.”

Quark grins. He lets Odo pull him closer. “You haven’t been to the mirror universe, though. Think you might try to find me there someday? Or some time, I guess?”

Odo shakes his head. “Quark, I wouldn’t interfere with the timeline, mirror universe or not.”

“Aren’t you curious, though? Maybe the other me was involved with the other you.”

A smile twitches Odo’s face. “And who am I to impinge on that?”

“Yeah,” Quark laughs. “That would be a weird triangle, wouldn’t it? Is it still a triangle if you’re on both sides?”

“Hmph.” Odo can’t quite keep his smile at bay, and it softens his disapproving grunt. “Don’t get any ideas, Quark.”

He wriggles happily against the Changeling. “Oh, come on, Odo. You know it’s just the ravings of an ancient Ferengi.”

“Not so ancient,” Odo grumbles. He holds Quark even tighter. “It’s too soon to think about the end just yet -”

*

Quark looks up at the shapeshifter in black as they walk past each other on the Promenade.

They hadn’t seen each other in days.

He sees Odo glance down at him, and for a moment, nothing else seems to exist.

Briefly, he feels Odo’s arm press against his.

Briefly, he feels Odo’s hand liquefy and brush against his own, sparking a link between them.

Briefly, he feels a gentle twitch at the back of his mind, and it feels like love.

The feeling blossoms and glows within him, lighting him up from the inside, until his entire body feels kissed with warmth.

Quark whirls his head around as Odo continues walking away, the link between them fading into a distant memory already.

He sees Odo look back at him with a small smile, before turning around and receding from view.

Quark stands alone in the middle of the Promenade and thinks about how such a small smile could transform Odo’s entire face.

He flexes his hand as the warmth disappears.

He’s had enough of thinking, and turns around to continue walking towards the bar -

*

 

_Meet the other side of the circle, little bartender._

 

*

He is Odo, but he doesn’t feel like it.

He wakes up in a body that doesn’t feel like his own, curled up like a dog on the ground, shivering on some indeterminate stretch of mountain.

The ground is freezing. The sun does nothing.

His face is nearly numb from the cold and Odo wonders why the thermal jacket lacks a hood. Surely Garak would have designed a far better garment than this paltry Federation attire.

It’s a Quarkish thought to think.

If his lips weren’t so frozen, Odo might have permitted himself a smirk.

“Quark, wake up,” he grumbles. “We’ve got a mountain to climb.”

Odo raises his head to glance over at the sleeping Ferengi.

“Quark.”

The color drains from his face at the possibility of Quark dying alone and cold.

Or already dead.

He crawls forward and shakes Quark’s arm, begging with his voice for Quark to turn around and face him. He thinks he’s begging out loud but he only hears himself yelling Quark’s name over and over, like a curse or a spell cast in desperation.

His world narrows down to this one Ferengi, and, for a moment, nothing else seems to exist.

Odo’s voice grows hoarse as he paws at Quark’s arm.

_Please, damn you, please don’t leave me here, please, Quark, don’t leave me -_

He’s thinking so hard and he doesn’t understand why the words fail to come out the right way as he slaps at Quark’s head, forcing the blood to stir and circulate fast enough to return Quark to the waking world, until Quark is spluttering and snarling at him, misinterpreting his fear yet again.

He settles his hands on Quark and doesn’t let go -

*

He is trying to laugh at Quark’s pitiful joke about hand-holding but the sound comes out all wrong.  

The humorless croak sounds harsh and discordant, and Odo wishes he knew how to make himself sound reassuring, how to say the right words.

And yet his reaction still makes Quark smile.

Odo chalks it up to the blood loss.

He doubts he’ll ever forget the sight of it. How the blood seeped through Quark’s garish clothing and pooled underneath the injured Ferengi like a hideous mockery of Odo’s natural state. How it scared him with its wrongness, spilling out where it didn’t belong.

He holds onto Quark’s hand and doesn’t let go as they transport to the Infirmary.

He doesn't let go of Quark’s hand until Quark is safely in the biobed.

He still doesn't feel like he's let go as he walks away from the Infirmary, wishing, just once, that he could use excessive force against Brunt and his Nausicaans -

*

He is curled up on the ground, a temporary dog stuck in the past, and he wonders when the humans will return with Quark.

He cannot wait to see the shock on Quark’s face when he reveals his true face again.

Odo would smile to himself if he could do so in this body.

He shows his fangs in a semblance of a smile, and a passing human scritches the back of his ears.

It’s not terrible. He almost understands the appeal of it in other species.

He idly wonders how Quark might react to a quick scritch behind the ear.

The human leaves him and Odo huffs a quiet canine laugh to himself.

If he has to be stuck 400 years in the past, at least he's not alone.

Odo experiments with lifting and lowering his tail as he contemplates any number of backup strategies.

Maybe he could learn how to mimic Quark’s ship, eventually.

Who knows what he could do in a century or two?

And Quark would still be around, if the little thief doesn’t fall into too much trouble.

As Odo recalled, Ferengi lived for at least two centuries and counting.

With a slight start, he realizes Quark’s ancestors must be living somewhere on Ferenginar at this very moment.

Odo wonders what Quark's ancestors are like.

He supposes he could visit them on Ferenginar sometime, but can’t decide if Quark’s ancestors might be better or worse than Quark himself.

Odo hopes they’re more like Rom, instead -

*

It’s been months since the Dominion occupation ended, and it’s taken months for Quark to forgive him for leaving Rom to die.

Odo suspects Quark hasn’t truly forgiven him. He knows when Quark is lying, which is often, though not always.

But he suspects Quark is lying about the forgiveness, and that lie actually gets under his skin far more than any insult Quark has lobbied at him over the years.

He waits until the last patron has left the bar, until even Morn has stumbled back to his quarters for the evening, before he approaches Quark at the counter, holding a bottle of Quark’s most scandalously expensive liquor behind his back.

The Ferengi addresses him without looking up. “What do you want, Odo?

“I’ve got something for you.”

That makes Quark look up. “Yeah? Not another half-assed apology, I hope.”

“No.” Odo smiles.

He sets the bottle down onto the counter.

“Oh.” Quark’s browridges rise. “Where’d you get that?”

“Bought it off Broik when you weren’t looking.”

“Huh.” A peculiar look appears on Quark’s face. “And that’s for me?”

“Yes.” Odo pushes the bottle towards him. “Do you have a glass?”

Quark glances down at the glass he’s drying in his hands. “Yeah, I guess -”

Odo gently removes the glass from Quark’s hands and sets it down onto the counter, next to the bottle.

He opens the bottle and pours out a glass.

Broik had mentioned it was strong, so he takes care not to pour out too much.

He places the glass in front of Quark and waits for the Ferengi’s reaction.

Quark’s face softens at the gesture. He glances back up at Odo and accepts the glass without a word.

Odo watches him take a drink in silence.

Quark always forgives him in the end, and he's not sure if he deserves it -

*

 _Deserved or not, we have made our decision_ , the Link tells him, and it casts him out yet again, lovingly this time, a gentle wave goodbye -

*

Odo stares ahead as he walks away, afraid to turn around.

If he turns around and sees Quark wave goodbye, he might not be able to keep walking away.

It's for the best. He can always return after the healing is complete.

He walks alone down the corridor and says nothing -

*

It’s too quiet on the mountain without Quark whining at him every minute.

He crawls forward on the rocks, broken leg crudely held together with lashings and wood, hoping beyond hope that Quark’s still managing the climb without him.

Their separation leaves him with a dissonant feeling.

Everything else Odo notices seems to amplify his isolation.

The empty sky, devoid of clouds. No birds flying overhead.

The distant trees with their whorled bark, curling upwards like a forest of sneers.

He used to think he’d love nature, but now he’s had too much of it.

The silence is unnatural.

Nothing about this is natural.

He misses the little reprobate and his annoying voice -

*

The Link is full of voices and not-voices, cascading upon each other in strange harmonies, holy and transcendent beyond the confines of any one imagination, and yet.

And yet, something is missing.

The memory of the missing voice adds a discordant note throughout the Link, superimposing itself like an errant motif, like an itching echo demanding a scratch behind the ears.

 _Odo_ , the Link tells him, identifying the him and not-him of his individuality, _Odo, this cannot sustain._

He mingles and merges into himself again, until he’s an outlier again, until he’s a spiking aberration awaiting judgment for his nonconformity again, but the judgment is kind. It's a life sentence of the best kind.

Odo suspects Quark would be thrilled, if he only knew how much he could throw the entire Great Link off balance with the mere memory of his voice alone -

*

On Gaia, Odo visits the classroom every day, when the children are gone.

He’s lost count of the decades. It’s been over a century.

He listens to the hologram of Quark every day, and it's never enough -

*

He is a melancholy-looking man named Douglas Pabst and he’s happier than he’s ever been.

Herb’s already fast asleep, his face half-buried in the crook of Douglas’s neck.

The bedroom is silent except for the sound of Herb’s soft inhales and exhales.

Douglas listens to the steady breathing. It lulls him to sleepiness.

He presses a kiss to Herb’s forehead and lets his eyes fall shut. His thoughts idly drift to visions of other worlds and other selves.

He’s not sure if Herb knows he reads all of Herb’s stories. Or if it even matters.

He’ll worry about discretion in the morning -

*

He is Supervisor Odo of Terok Nor, formidable and imposing, and he doesn’t understand how he can miss one little bartender’s voice so badly.

Quark broke all the rules he had fashioned for himself.

He doesn’t understand how someone could interrupt his life so completely, then leave him feeling so incomplete.

Quark had told him there was so much he didn’t understand.

He stands alone outside the entrance to Quark’s bar, and he cannot make himself walk away -

*

He is tired and he can’t make himself crawl up the mountain anymore.

Odo yells out Quark’s name one last time, taking care to stretch out the name, flinging it like a tether into the farthest reaches of the atmosphere.

The lack of reply breaks his stupid solid heart.

He records what he assumes will be his final security log and makes sure to mention Quark first, provide instructions for the remains.

His own body is an afterthought.

It remains an afterthought even as he’s beamed back up into safety, and all he can think of is -

*

He is standing on the island on the Changelings’ homeworld, and he’s trying to put everything he can into his imprecise words.

“Even Quark,” he tells Nerys, and the softening of her eyes tells him she knows.

Maybe she knew before he did.

Maybe she always knew.

He wishes he could give Nerys another version of himself. One that could stay with her forever.

He puts on a brave face as he steps back into the Link, and tries not to think about how he’s missing her and him already, and how he can’t decide which him he means -

*

He is Odo and he is hovering outside the entrance to Quark’s bar, wondering if he looks the same as he used to look.

He hopes Quark will recognize him.

No, of course he will. It hasn’t been that long. It couldn’t have been.

He wonders if Quark has missed him as much as he’s missed Quark.

The thought gives him pause.

No, of _course_ Quark has missed him.

And even if he hasn’t, Odo’s willing to bet on it.

He steps inside the bar.

Quark recognizes him immediately. The Ferengi smiles at him and the pure joy transforms his entire face.

It's irrefutable evidence. It's all the evidence Odo needs to keep walking forward.

And nothing else seems to exist -

*

 

 _Now close the loop, little bartender_.

 

*

“Don’t just stand there and scare away my customers,” he tells the shapeshifter in the black. “Come inside already.”

Odo walks through the bar’s entrance. “I wasn’t trying to interfere with your business.”

“Yeah, well. You have.” Quark can’t stop himself from smiling. “Interfered, that is.”

The shapeshifter eyes his smile. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know.” He gestures towards the counter. “Sit.”

Odo follows him, hesitant, unsure. He nevertheless obeys, sitting on a barstool. “You know I don’t drink - ”

“Or eat, or indulge in any other number of basic humanoid needs,” Quark finishes for him. “Tough luck. I do.”

“Yes.” Odo scrutinizes him for a moment. “Quark, what is the meaning of all this?”

“I don’t know,” the Ferengi admits. “But what I do know is that you’ve been haunting my doorstep every day, and I have enough ghosts in my life.”

Odo leans an elbow on the counter. “I still don’t understand.”

“Neither do I,” Quark tells him. “You’re very difficult to love, by the way.”

He polishes a glass as Odo’s eyes widen with realization.

“Difficult,” Odo repeats.

“But not impossible,” Quark adds.

He’ll worry about the consequences at another time, maybe in another life.

The shapeshifter smiles and it transforms his entire face.

Quark leans closer and watches Odo echo his movement.

His eyes fall shut as he brings their faces together for a kiss -

*

Herb removes Douglas’s glasses and sets them on the nightstand next to his own.

They’re finally close enough to see each other without any help.

The moonlight falls through his bedroom curtains and he keeps the curtains open.

Only the stars can see them from here, anyway.

He smiles as Douglas presses him back into the pillow, and he brings their faces together for a kiss -

*

Quark's lost track of which Odo he's kissing, and it doesn't matter anymore.

For whichever version of himself he is, this is enough -

 

*

 

Quark removes the fragment from his mouth.

He blinks.

He’s back on the station, sitting in his bar, and Odo’s standing next to him, gently shaking his arm.

“Quark?”

“Yeah?”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know.” Quark looks up from the fragment in his hand and holds it out to Odo in bewilderment. “But I know this is an orb fragment.”

“You do?” Odo sits down on the barstool next to him. He examines the crystalline object. “How?”

Quark grins sheepishly. “I had an orb experience when I bit down on it.”

“You _bit down_ on an orb fragment?”

Quark sighs. “Don’t tell the Colonel, okay?”

“Quark, why would you _ever_ do that?”

He shrugs.

Odo sighs. “I’ll confiscate this for safekeeping.”

Quark smiles as he watches Odo stretch a hand over the counter to grab a napkin.

The Changeling carefully folds the napkin over the orb fragment, tucking the ends into a neat parcel before slipping it into a shapeshifted pocket.

“Where did you get an orb fragment, anyway?”

“Morn found it in his latest shipment. He figured I’d know what to do with it."

Odo grunts. “His faith in you never ceases to amaze me. And what did you see in your orb experience?”

“I saw a lot of things.” Quark waggles his browridges. “Mostly you and me.”

“Oh?” Odo smiles wryly. “Good things, I hope.”

“More or less. Hey, Odo?”

“Yes?”

“You love me, right?”

Odo gives him a strange look.

“Yes, Quark. I’ve told you countless times before, you no longer need to resort to schemes or trickery -”

“- or lies or deceit to get you to kiss me,” Quark finishes.

He remembers now.

He is a bartender on Deep Space Nine, and he's in love with a dumbass Changeling who loves him back.

“Good," Quark says. "I’m back in the right time, then.”

“Yes, Quark." Odo’s eyes soften. “You are.”

And he closes the distance between them for a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> >> [END CREDITS](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BNORkjGS_W0) <<  
> ( maroon 5 // sugar )  
>   
> 
> 
> happy belated valentine's day from me and the prophets, [xo](https://soft-galaxies.tumblr.com/post/157490553281/all-your-unfinished-selves-spacebubble-star)
> 
> title via siken's Birds Hover the Trampled Field, which is also highly Sad but insanely apropos for the end of What You Leave Behind. consider this a more optimistic twist on the poem + the overall quodo journey, may it never truly end ❤


End file.
